Uncaringly Lost
by SawManiac211
Summary: ...As you helped me rise, I let you fall.' Romance about guess who...hehehe...please read and review. WARNING: All is not as it appears...


It's strange how so little can change so much. It's strange to think that one man can change me so much and leave me with so much hurt, so much pain…

At night I think of you and cry, tears running down my cheeks, each one like a cut from a knife.

A disagreement to a murder…

A molehill to a mountain…

You showed me so much of the world, the universe, yourself, and yet I showed you nothing.

You loved me and never left me, you kept me safe from everything, you _married _me…

And as you helped me rise, I let you fall.

You made me feel like a queen of the world, even though I knew I was just a deceiver, twisting my way into power. You gave me everything you had control over and I chucked it away, left you still and cold.

In bed at night, your two hearts sounded a drumbeat for our love, your warm chest my pillow.

Now there is only silence.

Now there is only cold.

Over time, even as you showed me more and more, my love for you was slowly replaced with hatred and loathing. How can you, I'd thought, be so cheerful, so happy, when you've caused the deaths of so many people? I asked him that once. His usually infectious grin dropped and my heart twisted to look at him.

I couldn't look at him.

"There was no other way," You'd whispered, your eyes so sad. "I couldn't stop anything; it was for the greater good!" Your face pleaded to me. "Please. I did it for you. I did everything for you."

I'd believed you then, believed him on the spur of the moment. But then the anger and the hatred rose in my throat again, choking my compassion. How could you have truly cared? You'd let your own world-your own people-burn to save your own skin, your own universe.

The way you strutted around like you owned everything, your wisecracks that once made me laugh, now made me seethe in rage at your own arrogance.

In the end, when everything you knew was fallen and you were backed into a corner, I turned your corner on you.

I shot you when you were trying to divert attention to yourself to stop me getting hurt. Shot you as your enemies tried to capture you, tried to contain you, your spirit. You were about to object their demands, to give them the finger and teleport out of danger with me, when I tightened my finger on the trigger.

I shot you.

Shot you like the cold-hearted bitch that I was.

Your eyes found mine as you fell, eyes that were shocked and hurt as you realised the depth of my betrayal of you.

You loved me, and I couldn't love you back.

Your own enemies tried to help you, tried to convince you to regenerate another time, like so many times before, when I loved you.

But you would not. Refused to. If there is no-one left to love or to love in return, then what is the point of life?

I watched as you died, as your handsome face smoothed over in death into the face I once knew.

I waited for the triumph, for the feel of happiness of getting rid of such a murderer of species.

But nothing came. Just a cold, blank mist that swirled around inside of me.

Only then did I realise my mistake.

Only then did I realise that you truly loved me, that all you had said and shown me was true, that I did not deserve to live for killing the one that made me live, in the days when I was just some common chav working in a shop.

All those adventures, all those worlds, all that love, and I'd killed it all.

Your enemies became mine. Even they were disgusted at my deed.

They seek me even now, as I lie on this cold, hard bed, letting my liquidised heart flow out of my eyes.

I cannot move; the enormity of what I have done is pinning me to the bed like a butterfly to a paper.

Only after so many months can I get up, look at myself in the cracked mirror.

My blond hair is shaggy, unkept.

My eyes are watery from all the tears, all the guilt, all the love I never knew I had until I threw back in your face when you needed me most.

And I take out the screwdriver from where I stole it from the ashes of your funeral that your enemies had the care that I had not to arrange, my hysterical, sobbing laughter as I'd raised it in my hand echoing through time.

It brought back his touch.

His smile.

His warm love for me even as the world burnt below him, even as his last breath rasped out.

And I hold it to my chest and sob inside-for the tears are all gone, dry as dust-for the man I loved and uncaringly lost.

_Master._

_My Master._

**Betcha thought it was another Rose/Doctor romance! Hope it caught you out-please review!**


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